


Dancing in the Dark

by guineagirl5



Series: Song Inspired Harringrove Fics [4]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineagirl5/pseuds/guineagirl5
Summary: It’s funny how life changes and does a complete 180 away from the plans you have in high-school. If you asked Billy Hargrove 8 years ago, when he still hated the world, his father, and pretty much everything else, his plan once turning 18 would be to ditch the shithole town of Hawkins, Indiana, take his Camaro and everything he held dear, and make a beeline back to San Diego.But then he had to start loving Steve Harrington, the prick.





	Dancing in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hooooooly shit guys, can you believe that this started because of the small little scene at the end of the fic? I don't know how it turned into more than a drabble, but here you go. 
> 
> Inspired by [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1nHL8TSr5I) song by Bruce Springsteen.

_I get up in the evening_  
_And I ain't got nothing to say_  
_I come home in the morning_  
_I go to bed feeling the same way_

Billy got out from underneath his current client’s car and wiped grease from his brow. The sun was starting to set. All of his days were getting wasted at his second-shift job at the local Hawkins mechanic, and he felt like all he did was move between his and Steve’s crummy apartment. 

It’s funny how life changes and does a complete 180 away from the plans you have in high-school. If you asked Billy Hargrove 8 years ago, when he still hated the world, his father, and pretty much everything else, his plan once turning 18 would be to ditch the shithole town of Hawkins, Indiana, take his Camaro and everything he held dear, and make a beeline back to San Diego. 

But then he had to start loving Steve Harrington, the prick. Steve, with his heart of mush, was so attached to the small town and the party of kids in it, he was reluctant to follow Billy to Cali. So Billy never left. He stayed where he swore he would never, ever return to. Life is ridiculous. Now, Billy’s life consisted of work, Steve, looking after his (step)sister with her _boyfriend_ Lucas (He was a good kid, really, but even when he didn’t want to admit it, he was protective of Max), bills to pay, and just trying to function as a human being. Same shit, different day. 

_I ain't nothing but tired_  
_Man I'm just tired and bored with myself_  
_Hey there baby, I could use just a little help_

As he got in his Camaro to go home, Billy realized that his body was _sore_. The aches and pains finally had a chance to settle in his muscles and bones. Working full-time for shit pay put his body under a lot of stress, not to mention old injuries from his old man. There were certain days when the weather was just right, where his right shoulder would _ache_ all day, all because his father yanked it out of socket and Billy fell on it wrong. His wrists would twinge sometimes if he tried lifting something too heavy, from that one time he “tripped” to the floor and bent them at a harsh angle. 

But most of all, he was just exhausted. And bored. How could he not be? He didn’t have many hobbies, especially once he quit smoking. Just back and forth, back and forth, back and _fucking_ forth from home to work. He had Steve, which was really all he needed, but they both were too tired or busy to go out and do other things. 

Steve took over Coach Bell’s job at the school, leading all of the regular gym curriculum as well as the Basketball teams. So Steve was out the door bright and early every day during the school year, and early afternoon in the summer for the sports programs. It didn’t leave a lot of time for just _them_ to lay in bed, other than the weekends. And even then, Billy missed Steve. A lot. 

One of Billy’s biggest fears revolved around the fact that his life was currently boring. An endless monotony that he couldn’t escape from. What if Steve got bored with him? What if Steve just felt bad that Billy’s life turned out this way, with a beat-em-up dad and dead mom and that’s why he stuck around? 

No, Steve was too good.

Steve was the one who _helped_ him break the monotony every day with his quick wit and sly smirks. The brunette could see when Billy was stressed about money, or people, or living in general, and he would take Billy’s hands to tell some stupid joke with a straight face that had Billy practically rolling on the floor. Billy would kiss away the self-satisfied smirk from Steve’s beautiful face afterwards and mumble _I love you_ , which was usually responded to with a pretty blush that covered Steve’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

Steve was intuitive, kind, and like he said... Heart of mush. 

_You can't start a fire_  
_You can't start a fire without a spark_  
_This gun's for hire_  
_Even if we're just dancing in the dark_

Billy was just grateful that he even landed Steve as a boyfriend. Sure, Billy was handsome. He could be funny. His body has always been fit, but he felt like that was all there was to him. 

Now Steve... Steve was amazing.

His laugh was like music, even better than the rock and roll that Billy liked to blast in his Camaro on his way to work or the grocery store. It was never loud or boisterous, but that’s what made it special. Soft chuckles and quick little giggles were a common occurrence while they sat snuggled up to watch late night TV, and on the rare occasions that Steve would belly laugh, Billy was treated to punctuated, higher pitched, breathless laughs that were contagious in nature. So simple, yet so poignant in Billy’s life.

Following his laugh close behind was that wide smile. When Billy would compliment his cooking, or how he looked that day or wooed Steve back into bed on lazy mornings, it was more subdued and shy. Steve would look bashfully at the floor with a sideways smirk while peering back up at Billy through his lashes. Other times it was full and wide, like when that rare belly laugh happened. His mouth would open to show all of his perfect teeth and the smile would reach his eyes so _quick_. True happiness in a visual form. But Billy’s absolute favorite were the smiles reserved just for him. Those smiles were the best because Billy could see the change in feeling. Steve would talk to one of their other friends with a big smile, and he would laugh about whatever joke had been told. Then, he would catch Billy’s eye and that smile would soften ever so slightly like Steve was completely at peace. 

Then there were Steve’s eyes. Those Brown beauties were what really roped Billy in the first time he saw Harrington. Dark brown, with a lighter shade thrown throughout as if to keep the viewer interested. Sometimes, Billy swore he could see little embers in those eyes, the kind that float up above a campfire with a quick flash before blowing out. Steve said his eyes were muddy and boring. Billy vehemently disagreed. They spoke to Billy in ways he thought words never could. He could see when Steve was happy, sad, frustrated, sympathetic, and even downright lovestruck. That last emotion was reserved for Billy, just like those soft chuckles and soft smiles. Steve would wake up in the morning, still drowsy, and those brown eyes would turn from disdain at the morning light to pure love and contentedness at the sight of Billy’s head on the pillow next to him. Those looks were what Billy lived for. 

And then there was Steve’s _stupidly beautiful coiffed hair_. It seemed that no matter what stress Steve was going through, no matter how rough he slept the previous night, that hair would bounce back into it’s messily styled home. Billy would see Steve in front of their bathroom mirror most mornings with his Farrah Fawcett hairspray, trying to put the strands into some imaginary order. He didn’t even need to try, but Billy knew it was part of Steve’s routine, so the blond never argued with him. Plus, that hair was great to run his calloused fingers through. It was always so soft and pliant under his hands when Billy guided Steve where he wanted while they made love. It fell over his forehead in a way that made him look like a model and hid his eyes _just_ so, when he was being coy. It fit steve so well. An organized mess. 

Last, there was Steve’s whole damn personality. He was kind and passionate. Protective and loving. Everything Billy needed after he got out from under his father's rough thumb. Billy would sit back and watch how Steve interacted with the kids in his many classes. The brown-eyed man would give each child or teen as much time and help as they needed, even letting them vent about things other than school to him. If Billy had had that kind of support in high school, he might have turned out a bit different. 

The passion in Steve’s body was palpable at times. Whether in bed, on the court, in a fight, wherever Steve happened to be. That passion would explode from somewhere underneath all that soft hair and miles of smooth skin. Billy witnessed it first hand when the secret had gotten out to Steve’s parents about their relationship one night. The normal emotional simmer that Steve was usually at had exploded into a protective passion when his parents practically kicked him out and lashed out at the blond. Steve kept putting himself between Billy and his parents, not for fear of _Billy_ losing control, but out of what the blond realized was a fierce loyalty and protection that wouldn’t let _anything_ hurt Billy. Not even the hurtful words of his own family. 

The party had a whole other level of protection. Those were Steve’s _kids_. When he and Billy started getting serious, Steve started telling him little bits and pieces of what had been going on that year in the upside-down. Billy wasn’t really clear on everything, only knew it was really bad and that it was some government secret. That was all he needed to know that Steve would protect those kids at any cost, even in their late teens. It didn’t stop Billy from giving the party shit, but now it was on playful terms and not aggressive. Honestly, he would protect them at any cost too. 

He couldn’t wait to get home. 

_Message keeps getting clearer_  
_Radio's on and I'm moving 'round the place_  
_I check my look in the mirror_  
_I want to change my clothes, my hair, my face_

When Billy got up the next morning, he looked at himself in the mirror with more scrutiny than usual. Same hair, same eyes, same face. Not much he could change. He could cut his hair, but he knew how much Steve loved it and he honestly did too. Unless he went under the knife, he wasn’t going to change his face at all. He needed something to change though, just to feel a small break in the routine. As he poked a simple metal stud into his current ear piercing, he had a thought. He could get another piercing. It wouldn’t be much, but it also wouldn’t be something completely irreversible if Steve or himself ended up hating it. 

He took his thumb and index fingertips and pinched them around different parts of his ear, trying to imagine which type would look better. He turned on his radio with a sigh and set about getting ready for work, forcing the teenage impulse to the back of his mind. What good would it do? 

Steve had already left for school, and a note was left on the bedside table reminding Billy that he had a meeting that night and would be home later than normal. He smiled at the little heart that Steve drew next to his name at the bottom. What a sap. 

Billy had gone to work for maybe five hours before his boss told him he could go home if he wanted. They had caught up on many of the projects that needed to be done and there was no point for both of them to hang around for nothing. Billy reluctantly agreed, not wanting to forgo the pay, but not wanting to waste away on a shop stool with nothing to do. 

As he climbed back into his own car, he paused. He still had some leftover money from his birthday gift from Max. He could go to the tattoo and piercing shop the next town over and get just a _simple_ one done, right? 

 

Right. Back at home, he stared at the red and slightly puffy shell of his left ear where he had a shiny and simple silver ring placed. It had hurt like a bitch, but he honestly was pretty excited. He felt that same sense of freedom from when he pierced his ear the first time. It was something that made him feel set apart from the rest of the world. And apparently, Steve loved it too. He had practically gushed over it once he got home from his meeting, muttering something about how it was _strangely sexy_. 

Yeah. Change was good. 

_Man I ain't getting nowhere_  
_I'm just living in a dump like this_  
_There's something happening somewhere_  
_Baby I just know that there is_

It felt like at least once a week, something in their apartment just decided to stop working. Luckily, Billy had become pretty handy. 

This week, it was their kitchen sink. Steve had been washing dishes when his feet started getting wet. Water was pooling out from the pipe in the cabinet where the sink was placed, and he had called Billy at work, asking _what the hell am I supposed to do I’m not equipped for this Hargrove_. 

Billy had simply sighed and told Steve to quit using the sink until he got home. Later that night, Billy’s legs stuck out from the cabinet, and he struggled with a flashlight to try and find the leak. He felt a small tug on the cuff of his jeans. 

“How’s it going under there?” 

Billy struggled out from underneath and soon emerged after a small thud was heard. He came out with a hand on his forehead and curses on his lips. Steve swore he could see some frustrated tears building in those blue eyes. Not just because of the sink, but their whole situation. Instead of commenting on it, he gathered Billy in his arms in the middle of the kitchen floor and whispered to not worry too much about it. 

Their apartment was a rundown mess and their landlord wasn’t a peach either. But, it’s what they could afford at the time of their desperate need for a home. When Steve had been kicked out and had to stay with the Byers’, something had ignited in Billy’s gut. 

Steve’s parents had the fucking _nerve_ to kick Steve out of a house they were hardly even around to use. He had wanted to rip both of the Harrington’s a new asshole that night, but was pushed out the door by Steve himself with a mumbled _it’s not worth it_. On top of that, they left Steve with very little money to his name. Steve hadn’t cared. He got a job at a local restaurant for a while, cleaning up dishes and waiting tables. He got decent tips, enough to at least help the Byers’ with living expenses while Joyce kindly gave him the couch. 

After that, Billy did some apartment hunting without even asking Steve if he had really wanted to move in together. The burning in his gut just made him want to provide and care for the boy who did it for him so many times. They moved in within a week of finding the place. Now, Steve would smile sadly while Billy grumbled about the apartment while he fixed their stove, or their fridge, or most recently the sink.

And so started the monotony of life.

Both boys made efforts to plan outings and dates, however rare they may be. Most times, it ended up being a drive around the outskirts of town that ended up near the quarry, secluded away where they could stargaze and have midnight trysts. 

Other times it was a movie night at the local theatre. They would sit in the back row where no one would bother them while they shared a pop ( _“It’s fucking soda Steve, I swear to God,”_ ) and popcorn.

But that was about the extent of what they did. Billy wanted more.

He began pulling extra shifts and hours at the shop, telling his boss to go home early for once. His time with Steve was cut even shorter and he hated seeing those brown eyes turn sad when Billy got more hours. But it was going to be worth it. With the extra cash he scraped in, Billy was going to buy tickets to a Van Halen concert in Toledo. Just him and Steve on the road in his Camaro for a couple of days. 

Billy camped out the evening the tickets were available at a record store a couple of towns over. He felt a _little_ bad about lying to Steve about having to finish up some cars that were overdue to be done. His chest loosened a bit once he actually had the tickets and knew all of his hard work wasn’t for nothing.

Steve practically jumped him when Billy broke the news about his gift. That beautifully big smile graced Steve’s face again as he held the tickets in his hands. 

_You can't start a fire_  
_You can't start a fire without a spark_  
_This gun's for hire_  
_Even if we're just dancing in the dark_

The concert ended up being even better than they had hoped. It was crowded and loud, and at any other time would have sent Billy into a slight panic attack. He had Steve pressed next to him the whole time, though, gripping his arm to keep from getting lost in the masses. 

The darkened atmosphere of the venue casted interesting shadows across everyone's faces. The colored lights made the excitement all the more real. As Billy looked at Steve having the time of his life, thoughts pounded in his head next to the music. 

_Beautiful. Pretty. Ethereal. Mine._

He leaned over to press a soft kiss on Steve’s cheek. The action was missed by everyone but the two boys involved, and even under the lights and the fog, he could see Steve’s cheeks bloom red. Billy didn’t pay any more attention to the other concert goers when he leaned in to fully take Steve’s lips in his own. Everything seemed so exciting and alive at that moment, and the fact that they would eventually have to drive back to Hawkins hardly bothered Billy. He was just glad he _did_ something for the guy he loved. 

The drive back was peaceful. Steve had long since fallen asleep in the passenger seat, curled around Billy’s jacket. They had bought a tape at the venue to listen to on the way home, but instead of it blasting in their sore ears, it played quietly in the background. Just enough to keep Billy awake for the drive. 

They arrived home in the early morning. Billy had to gently prod Steve awake and lead him up the stairs to their apartment door, the denim jacket they apparently both shared now draped over Steve’s shoulders. Both boys were tired but elated. As they went to bed together, thoughts of life turning out pretty good played in both of their heads. 

_You sit around getting older_  
_There's a joke here somewhere and it's on me_  
_I'll shake this world off my shoulders_  
_Come on baby this laugh's on me_

Several years had passed from when their relationship was new and exciting. When they started out, it was on the cusp of Graduation, when they were young and wild and god awfully horny. All of that had cooled down a bit. They were still relatively young, but their freedom and sex lives got a little more tied down. 

The one thing that hadn’t changed for Billy was his harsh bite for people who had _something_ to say about his relationship or Steve. Most times, he would take whatever comments people made or looks given and turn into his old cocky self, the one who pretended not to care. He did of course. But his anger control had strengthened considerably since high school. 

Steve tried not to show how the words upset him. His jaw would tick, and a tight laugh would bubble from his chest. Billy could tell he was disheartened, though. 

So, Billy would laugh nice and loud, shoulder the jeers for both of them. He was Steve’s bulletproof vest. After encounters with idiots that decided to comment on their hand-holding or loving looks, Billy would turn to Steve and make him forget about the ugliness of the world. 

Billy Hargrove didn’t want to fight anymore. But he would for Steve. 

_Stay on the streets of this town_  
_And they'll be carving you up alright_

For most people, if something horrible happened where they lived, they would move on. Move _away_ from what caused such stress. 

That’s why Billy was so confused when Steve hadn’t wanted to leave Hawkins. It took Billy a long time to understand that what happened in the small Indiana town was a bonding experience more than anything. Steve still had nightmares sometimes, images that would make the boy cling to Billy in the middle of the night with a pained expression on his sleeping face. A quick and soft touch to the back of his neck and through his hair made him calm down quickly. 

That had taken a while to figure out too. 

Billy used to panic with Steve, tried to wake him up from the terror that was causing such pain in the beautiful boy. Then one night, Billy stroked Steve’s hair, and the pained expression softened. It was then he realized that Steve had deep gashes on his soul that might never heal, but could be soothed with love and soft touches that the brunette had a lack of in his childhood. 

Steve gave, and gave, and _gave_ so much of himself. Billy was surprised he hadn’t blown away in the breeze yet. Steve would sometimes come home after school, his face paler than usual and a heavy sigh on his lips. Stories of a student having a troubled emotional home life were whispered in the dark while in bed, one night. It hit too close to home for both of them, and Steve would cry but never admit it. He needed to be strong for his students, but in the end, always returned home with less of himself. 

Billy helped rebuild him, inside and out. He would tell Steve that all he could do is wait for the student to be ready to take action for themselves, that Steve was doing everything he could.

“You’re giving them more than anyone did when I was going through it,” Billy would assure. “You’re a fucking angel, Steve Harrington.” 

_They say you gotta stay hungry_  
_Hey baby I'm just about starving tonight_  
_I'm dying for some action_

When it rains, it pours. Billy knew that as a fact. 

Steve’s student was finally getting help for their situation, and while that was good news... Billy’s own home life came back to haunt him.

It wasn’t the first time, either. Susan would reach out to him periodically, asking for financial help as if they still had Steve’s connections, as if Billy gave a damn about his old man. She would plead with him, sobbing about how their money was going towards more and more booze and cigarettes. They couldn’t keep up with house payments. They couldn’t afford to live. 

She would do it behind Neil’s back, and for some reason, that pissed him off even more. 

“I can’t even afford my own shit, Susan. Maybe leave the dick, then we’ll talk.” The phone receiver clacked hard against its cradle as he hung up.

Billy felt the all too familiar buzzing under his skin, the itch for a fight. He used to get it out of his system in hard fucks and fights, by drinking and smoking the buzz away. He didn’t do that stuff anymore. He also couldn’t let it brew like Neil did. That would only end up with him hurting Steve, as much as he hates the thought. 

Billy would kill himself if he hurt Steve again.

The gym was lightly populated in the afternoon on the weekends, most people getting their workouts done early in the morning. The blond had left their apartment not long ago, letting Steve know he would be home soon. He wasn’t questioned. Steve saw Billy’s attire and knew his plans, giving Billy a kiss on his tanned cheek. 

Billy stalked right over to the punching bag in the corner when he arrived. His gym bag thunked onto the floor next to him. His lip was nearly bleeding from all of the chewing it had endured after the phone call. He heaved a sigh as he wrapped his hands. Steve had chewed him out the last time he returned home with bruised knuckles because he neglected the task. 

His punches were strong, aiming for the punching bag where he felt like he could _see_ Neil’s face grimacing back at him. His muscles rippled, sweat dripped down his back and onto his white wife-beater.

_What an ironic name for a shirt._

He kept going. His knuckles hurt, he started getting phantom pains in his ribs, in his stomach, in his fucking head. All of the places his old man thought it was okay to hit his own son. 

When Billy really started losing control, he stopped. If he kept going, his blind rage would turn into something he didn’t want to think about. He had just needed to _punch something_ to scratch the itch that only a fight could get rid of. Any further, and he’s just like the man that was supposed to raise him. He switched to the treadmill to get out the rest of his energy.

When he returned home, he was greeted with lithe arms around his torso and a head of brown hair tickling his face. Steve knew what going to the gym usually meant. The least he could do when the blond got home was remind him of how much he was loved. That he was more than his fists and fury. He never asked about what made Billy upset as it was usually the same thing. 

Billy held Steve tightly. This man was the one thing keeping him nailed to Earth. Before Steve, Billy was constantly floating in between happiness and horror. Small moments with old flings and friends would make him feel weightless and like he actually was worth a damn to society. Then back at home, he would come crashing down into reality, breaking his soul like his bones had broken from his father's fists. 

With Steve, there was a happy medium. He got the elation he craved from loving somebody, while also not floating too far from what needed to be done. A comfortable weight on his shoulders to keep him grounded. 

_I'm sick of sitting 'round here trying to write this book_  
_I need a love reaction_  
_Come on now baby gimme just one look_

Billy quickly realized in Senior Year how much Steve had become a constant in his life. Even before they were together romantically. 

There were nights when Billy couldn’t stand to stay in the house on Old Cherry Road anymore, instead opting to brave the cold with just his leather jacket and a pack of smokes to keep him warm. He would choose to forgo the heat of his Camaro if it meant sneaking out in peace. 

His boots would carry him several blocks away, not really aiming to go anywhere but just put some distance between him and his reality. 

Then one night, Steve passed him in his Beemer, coming to a halt a little farther down the road. Billy paused, waiting for him to keep going, but instead watched as the red tail lights flicked off and someone, presumably Steve, climbed out. Billy was dumbfounded. 

“What are you doing out here, it’s like thirty degrees?” Steve shouted, just loud enough to be heard by the other teen. 

“I could ask you the same, princess,” Billy said after a moment of just staring. 

They weren’t really friends or enemies then. Just people who coexisted. 

Steve said he was just on a drive, he couldn’t sleep. Billy made the same excuse. After some convincing, Billy joined Steve in the warmth of his BMW. They talked for hours.

It ended up becoming routine, and almost as soon as they considered each other friends, they were lovers. Steve would steal Billy away late at night to spend some time in the big empty Harrington residence. More often than not, they would end up naked in Steve’s bed, the brunette fussing over bruises and scrapes on Billy’s body. Billy would soothe his worries with feather-light kisses and strokes of his hair. 

Something Billy never would have thought possible was happening then. He was getting positive attention from Steve, who would look at him so soft and caring that it made Billy want to cry. On more than one occasion he did. 

He cried for himself, he cried for Susan, he cried for Max... but not his Dad. Never his Dad. 

Steve shushed him, not asking why he broke down. More often than not, if Steve stayed silent long enough, the boy would talk about it himself. Those nights were the nights that Steve really learned about what happened behind closed doors. He would get angry, Billy could feel it in the trembling of Steve’s arms. But the brunette would just whisper a _Thanks for telling me_ and hold Billy tighter. 

_You can't start a fire sitting 'round crying over a broken heart_  
_This gun's for hire_  
_Even if we're just dancing in the dark_

Billy arrived home from work at around 7 pm. His body hurt, he was tired, and he just wanted to see and hold and _feel_ Steve’s warmth against him. The days never got any easier, but he refused to feel sorry for himself. He stopped doing that a while ago. 

The blond could hear music coming from somewhere in the living room, and when he entered, Billy felt all of his stress start to drip away. No lights were flipped on in the room, just the shades of the one big window thrown open to let in the sunset. His stereo ( _“It’s very expensive Steve, don’t let the brats touch it,”_ ) was turned on in the corner, the volume up maybe halfway. 

Steve, the big dork, was dancing (badly) in the doorway between the kitchen and their living area, a wooden spoon in his hand as he sang along to whatever song was playing. Billy realized then that it was a Bruce Springsteen tape from Steve’s collection. 

His “Hawkins Tigers” shirt was still on from his work day, but he lacked his shorts, only standing in his briefs. His tall socks were now scrunched up at the ankle instead of following the contours of his calves like normal. 

The brunette caught sight of him and immediately shut up, his cheeks flushing cutely with embarrassment. The spoon was quickly tucked away behind his back as if it could get rid of his awkwardness. 

“I was just... making dinner,” He chuckled nervously. That silly sideways smile appeared on Steve’s face. Billy knew that no matter how many times Steve was caught like this, he would always deny that he ever impersonated _Risky Business_. Billy loved it. 

Steve hurried back to the pot on the stove, checking on what looked like spaghetti noodles. He still hummed along to the music as he stirred the pasta gently. Billy sauntered up behind the other while tying the top half of his coveralls around his waist. A huge smirk materialized on his face as his tired hands fell on Steve’s hips, their backs flush against one another in front of the stove. Billy guided both of their hips to a light sway to the beat of the drums and his lips fell to Steve’s nape with a smile. 

“Looks like you were having a party without me,” The blond mumbled, giving the bony hips in his hands a squeeze. 

Steve’s fingers turned the dial for the burner off, letting the pasta be in the hot water without worry. He turned around in Billy’s arms to plant a kiss on plush lips. 

“You can join me... if you want,” He whispered back, leading Billy to the living room without waiting for an answer. 

Even in less than a minute, the place had gotten darker in the failing light of the sun. The boys didn’t mind. They took up a spot in front of the window, carving out a dance floor on the dingy carpet under their feet. 

Billy sang the last lines to the beautiful man in front of him. 

_“You can't start a fire worrying about your little world falling apart_  
_This gun's for hire_  
_Even if we're just dancing in the dark,”_

Billy’s heart soared as the world fell away, leaving only him and his partner as the sole survivors in their little slice of the universe. 

Their foreheads touched, guided by Billy’s rough hands on either side of Steve’s face as they swayed. Steve’s eyelashes tickled Billy’s cheeks as they pressed as close as possible, both moving side to side to the beat of the synth and drums. Billy didn’t know how to tell Steve that he was the blonds reason for living, that without Steve he wouldn’t be able to function as a human being. It probably wasn’t healthy, being that dependent, but a big part of Billy craved the way Steve took care of him.

So he settled for one sentence.

“I love you so much,” The blond mumbled. Those big brown eyes looked up into his own with a light that lit up Billy’s whole heart, even in the waning light. His sentiment was returned in a quiet whisper meant only for his ears. 

Their dinner was getting cold on the burner, but neither of them could find it in themselves to care. These moments between them were rare with their busy and stressful days. But when they found time to carve a little slice of the world out for a few minutes, just to themselves, nothing else mattered. The rest of the world could be literally falling apart around them and it wouldn’t matter. 

They danced on and on.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you guys don't mind the lyrics throughout, I write these fics with the lyrics in mind, and to me, it flows better sometimes if I include them. Let me know what you think!


End file.
